


Too Much Horror Business

by Codydarkstalker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Domestic Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Writer Will Graham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-26 20:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16688659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codydarkstalker/pseuds/Codydarkstalker
Summary: Will Graham is happy, he insists, to be alone in his big house with his dogs and his work. He has a job he enjoys, writing murder mystery novels, and plenty of time to devote to taking long walks, alone, and go fishing, alone. SO when his friend Beverly signs him up for a fancy new dating service that promises the best matches, using your online searches and data usage, he's less than thrilled. At least until he meets a very nice man, a Mr. Hannibal Lecter, who doesn't mind long talks about poisons or famous serial killers over dinner.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick shout out to TUMBLR. I got the idea in a random text post I found and couldn't get out of my head.

 

Will slumped over his desk, letting his head rest on his keyboard. He groaned as he heard the doorbell going off, refusing to lift his head even as his screen filled up with Ys and Gs. the rest of the document was still blank. The file name at the top seemed to stare down at him, accusingly. ‘New Novel’. He probably would have stayed there if not for the noise the dogs started making. That was enough to force him to his feet and make him shuffle step his way to the front door. He grabbed a few biscuits form the plastic tub he kept by the door and crumbled them in his hand, tossing the pieces down to keep the pups distracted as he undid the many locks on the door.

 

Outside, the world was full of sunshine and snowflakes and a very peeved looking Beverly Katzs. She was shivering slightly, and seemed to be attempting to disappear into a mountain of cold weather gear, only a tiny bit of face and her very pink nose visible through all the micro-down and wool.

 

“Good god Will! If you had taken any longer I would have guessed you were dead and busted the door in!” She pushed her way inside, past the dogs, and stomped her feet on the rubber mat, shaking loose the worst of the now. A tiny snow drift followed her in before Will could close the door against the wind. One of the smaller dogs lapped at it, spreading the puddle. “Ugh, all this mess and only November.” She grimaced.

 

He shrugged and tucked his hands in his pockets, very conscious of how he must have looked. A week's worth of beard growth, unkempt hair. His old wood pellet stove wasn’t doing much to keep the house warm, so he was wearing a wool sweater over his flannel pajamas, all liberally covered in dog hair. “I was writing,” he offered lamely. No need to mention he was writing with his face. “You know how i get when I’m busy with a new book.”

 

She took off her coat and hung it on the rack on the wall, and then her hat, her scarf, her gloves, and then the thermal coat she had on under that lot. Freed of the layers of clothes, and now clad in a simple black turtleneck and grey pants, she gave herself another little shake, and headed off towards the kitchen, one of the warmest rooms in the house. “I told you I was coming by today! I told you last week, and I messaged you yesterday to remind you.”

 

Will chose not to answer, and instead busied himself with filling the electric kettle with water and pulling down mugs. “Tea? Coffee?”

 

“Some of that fancy cocoa Alana got you.” Beverly grinned and settled into one of the old wooden chairs at his table. “She gets the good stuff.”

 

He laughed and rummaged through the cabinets, grabbing the fancy looking box. “Yeah, and you’re the only one who drinks it.”

 

Beverly shrugged and pulled out her phone. “Not my fault you don’t know how to indulge Will. Speaking of which, that’s why I’m here.” She made a little noise of affirmation and slid her phone across the table toward him.

 

He picked it up and stared at the screen incredulously. “Really Bev? Another dating app?” he dropped the phone and turned back to drinks he was making, rummaging in the fridge for milk. “Don't you remember last time? Because I do.”

 

She had the decency to look a bit guilty at least. “Oh, yeah. Ms. ‘Bisexuality Isn’t Real’ and Mr. ‘Pets Would Ruin My Jetset Lifestyle’. Okay, okay, those were bad dates.But this is better!” She grabbed the screen and tapped a few times before reading the text aloud. 

 

“LUVSEO is a search engine, for your heart-”

 

“Ugh, does it really say that?” Will wrinkled his nose and poured the cocoa mix into the milk he had warmed. 

 

Bev waved her hand at him, continuing on. “-A search engine for your heart. Using your internet presence and data, we match you with the perfect person. Our complex algorithm uses your emails, search history, web browsing, and video viewing habits, along with so much more, to find the person you are most compatible with.” She then slid her hand across the screen and showed him the home screen, which of course included photos of happy couples and glowing reviews next to little heart icons. “See, the rating are insane!”

 

Will poured the cocoa into a mug and handed it to beverly before grabbing himself a packet of instant coffee to dump into his own mug. “What’s insane is you trying to do this,  _ again _ . I mean, why bother?”

 

Beverly took a long sip of her cocoa and then set her mug down on the table with a little more force than needed. “Because Will, I am scared that one of these days I am gonna come over here and bang and bang on your door, and when I finally beat the damn thing down I’m going to find you died and your dogs have started eating you.”  

 

“Ah, well, good point I guess.” He poured hot water into his cup, stirred, and gingerly took a sip. “If I say yes does that mean you’ll leave faster so I can get back to work?”

 

“Yeah, there’s a good chance that would speed things along.” Beverly took another sip of her drink and grinned. “Now, let me at your computer.”

 

The dogs followed them into his office, weaving around their legs and perking their ears up in hope of a good rub. Beverly let one hand dangle, patting them, as she settled in at Will’s desk. She took a look at the document he had open and looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

 

“Doing some good work here huh?” She laughed.

 

Will nearly spilled his coffee all over himself as he lunged across the desk to close the program, face turning an unflattering shade of red. “I was just, it was nothing, okay?”

 

“Mm-hmm…” Beverly hummed to herself as she launched the internet browser. After a moment she had the page for the dating application open. “Okay, well let’s see.” The site prompted her with a dozen different questions. Name. Age. Sexual preference. When it asked for a credit card she was halfway through entering it before Will realized she knew his by heart. “I use your streaming log ins too,” She said, clearly unashamed.

 

“Bad cop, no stealing,” he said, flicking her on the back of her head, the blow cushing by the thick weight of her hair.

 

It took less time than he had thought it would. She dredged through social media accounts and book promos until she found a halfway decent picture to attach to his profile. It showed him sitting in a library, the kind rich people with estate homes had. All leather bound books and a roaring fireplace and an him settled into an overstuffed armchair. Three of his more photogenic dogs were staged around him, and he was wearing a soft grey sweater that made him look more porcelain skinned and less sunshine deprived. Will couldn’t help but feel sorry for anyone who feel for that picture, because the real thing wasn’t half as good normally. 

 

“There we go, all set!’ Beverly leaned back in the chair to admire her handy work. “Now all you have to do is wait and see about your matches.”

 

Will peeked over her shoulder at the screen, currently showing no matches at all. “Maybe there won’t be any,” he said, half hopeful. “I mean, I write mystery novels, I think half of the people interested in that are old ladies who grew up on cheesy Agatha Christie TV adaptations.”

 

Beverly pushed away from the desk and stood up, the dogs pawing at her legs. “Oh Will, don’t worry, you’ll get a match. I mean, don’t people say there’s someone out there for everyone? That’s got to include you too.”

 

Will scooped up his smallest current dog, a pomeranian and corgi mix named Fin, and hugged it protective to his chest like a security blanket. “Ugh, but that would mean...dates. I hate dates, first dates in particular.”

 

Beverly turned her attention to the dog. “Your daddy is a nut case, I hope you know that. He’s also an ungrateful ass who’s going to die alone if he doesn’t get out once in a while.” She pat the dog on the head and he responded by whining and wiggling around until Will lifted him high another to lick the woman’s face. “See, at least one of you can be properly affectionate.”

 

Will turned, pulling the dog away. “You’re a traitor,” he whispered in it’s ear, before setting it down to lay on the floor. “But honestly, I’ve done this so many times, and it never works. I mean, maybe I’m just meant to be a...What’s the male word for spinster?”

 

“Permanent bachelor?” Beverly offered, heading into the hall. “Sad and  lonely thing forgotten by mankind?” She peaked out the window and noted the sun was beginning to push through the cloud cover and the snow had stopped. “Now, how about we get out of here for a bit? When’s the last time you actually went outside Will?”

 

He paused to think about it. “Does getting the mail count?”

 

Bev shook her head. “No.”

 

“How about walking the dogs?” He smiled hopefully.

 

“Nope.” Beverly sighed.

 

Will thought hard for a moment. “I also shoveled some snow.”

 

Beverly buried her face in her hands. “Okay, that’s it. I am taking you out for lunch. You need sunshine and human interaction and real human food.”

 

Will huffed out a breath and then looked down at himself. “I need real pants first. Oh, and I demand we go to that diner I like.”

 

“The one with the massive all day breakfast menu?” Beverly asked, already pulling on the first of her coats. “Downtown?”

 

Will nodded. “Yes, and you’re paying.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

The diner was busy, but the two of them managed to snag a booth in the back of the restaurant without too much trouble. The diner is a popular downtown spot, open all day and night, with an impressive range of dishes, form matzo ball soup to Denver omelettes to cheeseburgers. Both of them turned the pages of the massive menu to the breakfast section, eyeing the assortment of pancakes and waffles and eggs.

 

“Hmm, do I want too much sugar or too much salt today?” Beverly pondered, looking between the various options. “It’s so hard to pick.”

 

“Hmph, amateur.” Will tapped the top of the menu, the item surrounded by little stars. “I’m getting this.”

 

Beverly leaned across to take a peek. “Wow, really? That’s...a lot of food. Like, a lot a lot.”

 

The meal included two sunny side up eggs, three silver dollar pancakes, three mini waffles, sausage, bacon, hash browns, orange juice, a choice of coffee or tea, toast, and sides of jam, hollandaise, and maple syrup. The menu called it the farmhouse breakfast, but really it was more of a meal to feed a farmer’s family and not just the farmer himself.

 

“It’s kinda feast or famine for me. I don’t really like to cook, and I forget to eat half the time, so when I go out I go overboard a bit.” Will shrugged and then fell into silence as the waitress arrived.

 

“Hi! Can I help you today? Do you wanna hear the specials?” She was young and pretty and shiny brown hair and very large blue eyes, which she immediately fixed on Will. “Maybe some coffee?”

 

Will had never seen a woman actually flutter her lashes at him before, but in real life it looked a bit like she was struggling with something caught in her eyes. Which was probably slightly less appealing than whatever it was she was going for.

 

“Oh I uh, i think the meal I was getting, I think it comes with-” he stared down at the menu, feeling the redness creeping over his cheeks. 

 

“I would  _ looove _ some coffee,” Beverly said, snapping her menu shut with a bit of extra force. “And maybe some more time to look at the menu.”

 

The waitress sniffed and then plastered on a much less pleasant smile. “Of course, I’ll be right back with that.” She gave Will a lingering glance before turning back toward the kitchen, giving her hips a little extra wiggle.

 

Will turned to Beverly. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I hate moments like that.”

 

“Moments where pretty young things flirt with you? Do those happen a lot?” Beverly raised her eyebrows meaningfully. 

 

WIll slumped down in his seat, wishing it were acceptable to simply slide under the table and have his breakfast down there in peace. Or ask for a box to bring home. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t flirt back. I just-”

 

“Emit some kind of pheromone?” Beverly laughed. “Oh, better get yourself together, here she comes.” She managed to school her expression into a more placid one before the waitress arrived, this time with two mugs of coffee.

 

“Here we go! Now, we all ready to order?” She kept her eyes on Will as she wrote down their orders, and gave him another wide smile as she ran off to fetch their food.

 

“See, this, this is why I like staying inside. It’s nice inside, I’m safe from lustful gazes and hormones.” Will poured several packets of sugar and creamer into his coffee until it was the color of damp sand. “I mean it, anymore of this kind of nonsense and I might seriously consider sequestering myself away for good. I’ll pull a JD Salinger.”

 

Beverly put a single packet of sugar and a bit of cream into her own mug. “Yes, well, I think for anyone besides me to care you’re going to have write the next great American novel, and not another murder mystery set on a train.” She took a sip of her drink and hummed appreciatively. 

 

Will balled up his napkin and tossed it at her. “You know, there’s a great history of train based murder stories. Agatha Christie was a genius. You have dozens of people, trapped together, the drama of different people mixing together, fighting the elements but also, each other.”

 

Bev snorted into her cup. “Ah yes, well while i enjoy you waxing poetic about all this, I hate to be the one to tell you no one really takes epic train rides anymore.” 

 

They went on like that, back and forth bickering over their coffees. The conversation was cut short by the reappearance of the waitress, bearing two large platters, most of which was holding Will’s breakfast. He managed to avoid any prolonged eye contact, or lingering smiles, and soon the two of them were left with their food. It was amazing. Will managed to eat about half his meal, the rest earmarked for dinner that night.

 

“I think I just gained five pounds,” Will groaned, leaning back to give his stomach room to breath. “I may never be hungry again.”

 

Beverly licked a bit of leftover whipped cream off the edge of her butter knife and smiled. ‘See, the benefits of the outside world. It has food that’s not canned of frozen.”

 

Will kicked her shin under the table. “Yes, yes, you made your point. I am a miserable man, blah blah, die alone, blah blah, you know I’ve heard it all at this point.”

 

Beverly sighed and pulled out her wallet, sliding it into the card holder with the bill. “Okay, well joking aside, you should try and get out a bit more. It’s not good for you to be alone all the time, thinking about death. I mean, I know you’re not a cop anymore but-”

 

Will held up a hand to stop her. “Yes, I’m a not a cop anymore, but that’s the point.” He ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m not a cop because I can, on occasion, do what’s best for myself. I’m not going to have another breakdown, and I’m not suicidal or anything. I just...I like being alone sometimes. Most of the time.”

 

Beverly deflated slightly, but waited for the waitress to take the check away before saying anything. “I know, I know, I just- I worry Will. And with the way you push people away, maybe one day there won’t be anyone left to worry, and that worries me most of all.”

 

Will opened his mouth to reply and then shut it again. He didn’t have much to say to that. It was true. His parents had passed on years ago, and it had been a long time since he dated. Most of his friends were people he had worked with on the force, and even those were dwindling. 

 

The ride back to his house in the woods was a quiet one. He held the warm remains of his food on his lap and leaned his head against the window, watching the landscape pass by through the fog his breath left on the glass. She let him out with a small and made him promise to call as soon as he got a match on the dating app, and then left him standing in the driveway with his Styrofoam container.

 

When he opened the door, a few of the more wily dogs pushed through, yapping and whining, eager to play in the new snow. It wasn’t deep but it was fresh and white, and he found he couldn’t say no. He grabbed a spare leash in case he needed one and then lead the pack off into the woods.  

 

No one lived within  mile of Will’s house. That was most of the reason he bought it. Wolftrap was a sparsely populated place, and his house was like an island in the sea of the woods. The trees grew thick around it,, he didn’t have to walk more than a few minutes before he lost sight of it entirely. The dogs lead the way, running and weaving through the trees, jumping over fallen branches and logs.

 

He liked being out in the woods with them. Away from other people he felt calmer, more centered. His dogs were perfect for that. They kept him present but didn’t demand much. He had adopted several dozen over the years. Hard luck cases and strays. Some he had adopted out through a local shelter, mostly healthy puppies he knew people would want, would love. Some died, too sick or old when he got them for him to to do much besides make sure they were comfortable. He had started a little cemetery for them out behind his shed, in the shade of a massive flowering bush of St. John's wort. He would go out some morning, when it was cold enough to see his breath in the air, and drink his coffee and look over the little stones laid out, unsure of how he should feel. They weren’t really his dogs after all, but it filled him with a deep well of sadness, that was still a pleasant distraction from his normal dark thoughts.

 

The dogs ran him through the woods until the sun was low in the sky. The days were short, but he could tell from the numbness of his hands and feet he had been out too long and wearing too little. So he called them back and headed towards home. He could have done it with his eyes closed it was so familiar, but he had his eyes open, which was how he saw it. 

 

The buck was huge, bigger than he had ever seen so close to his house. The sun was so low he could only make out the shape of it, the antler blending in with the low hanging branches. The dogs stilled at the smell, and it wasn’t until one of them took a hesitant step forward that the deer kicked at the snow and ran off, crashing through the underbrush. It wasn’t until it was gne, the sound fading away that Will felt able to move.  


	3. Chapter 3

It took a few days before Will got the app alert that said he had a match. He was busy the whole time, buried up to his eyeballs in research for his latest book (he was considering trying his hand at a period piece, one involving boats, which were a private passion of his). He also managed to acquire a new dog in that time, an older boy that looked to be a husky and st. bernard mix, it’s fluffy fur matted down and stuck with leaves and mud. It looked like it had just been dropped off on the side of the road. He found it by the roadside, shivering and whining and all alone, a dent still in it’s fur where a collar had used to sit. He managed to get the dog to come from him with a bit of bacon, and then walked it home and washed it out on the front porch, with the other dogs peering out through the screen door and the window while he groomed it. He named the dog Benjamin, and after a few hours it was settled in his largest crate, damp but clean, and with a small dish of boiled chicken to settle his stomach.

 

It was only after he sat back down at his computer after, shirt still damp and covered in dog hair, that he saw the notification. Two in fact. Little hearts that danced on the screen, enticing him to click. 

 

Both of the men, surprisingly, seemed decent. Both doctors, both rather handsome, both apparently with search histories that mirrored his own. Not surprising, considering they both stated on their profiles they worked in psychology. He took a screenshot of the page and sent it to Beverly and Alana, along with a question mark. They took hardly any time to respond.

 

**Beverly- I saw go with the foreign guy. Accents are hot and the other guy is so short and the tie in that picture is super tacky.**

 

**Alana- I actually know both of them, not very well, but through conferences and things. Frederick is very...well he’s amrt, certainly, but he can be a snob and rather abrasive. I vote for Hannibal. I hear he’s an excellent cook.**

 

**Will- Okay, Hannibal Lecter it is. Now to decide what to say...**

**Beverly- ‘Dear Hannibal, that suit is nice but would look even nicer on my bedroom floor.’?**

 

**Will- Beverly, no.**

 

**Beverly- Beverly yes!**

 

**Alana- I wouldn’t advise on that as a starter. How about inviting him out someplace nice?**

 

**Will- I don’t go nice places. Have you met me?**

 

**Beverly- True, he doesn't. Hell, have you met him Alana?**

 

**Alana- I know a good place. Micah’s Cafe and Tea Shop. they do tea and coffee and have a surprisingly nice selection of wine in addition to pastries. I think it’s a good first date spot.**

 

**Beverly- Ooh wine, yes, very good.**

 

**Will- Fine, fine. I’ll ask him on a date. And then when it goes badly I can say I told you so and we won’t have to speak of it again for another year or so.**

 

He clicked away from his message with them and opened the app, selecting Hannibal Lecter’s profile. Hannibal’s pictures were much nicer than his own. Hannibal smiling and wearing what looked like a very expensive tuxedo at the opera. Hannibal in a lavish office, behind a desk that probably cost more than most cars Will had owned. Hannibal playing piano, his sleeves rolled up to reveal surprisingly muscular looking forearms. He was handsome and cultured and his profile listed proficiency in several languages.. A quick trip to Google also revealed he was published in several medical journals, and noted as a benefactor for a few local and international charities. Hannibal Lecter was, by all reckoning, a perfect gentleman, scholar, and all around decent human being. The best partner a person could ask for and obviously a very poor fit for Will.

 

Which was why Will decided to message him right away. He would go on a date and then Hannibal would see Will was not a good match at all, internet usage and data mining be damned, and that would be that. It would easy to put off Beverly by saying the lack of a call from his new beau was too depressing, and she would move on to something else. Like bothering him to go to the doctor or adopt out more of his dogs.

 

Will glanced at the clock. It was late already. Most people with regular jobs would be settling in to bed soon, but that was fine. He opened the messaging feature of the app and typed out a quick note to the other man.

 

Hello Dr. Lecter. 

 

My name is Will Graham. I was surprised, but pleased to see I had gotten a match so soon after signing up for this app. I must confess, I am not much good at chatting online, I make a poor penpal. I was wondering if you might like to join me for a drink at Micah’s cafe. I have it on good authority the tea and coffee are quite good. I am enclosing a link to the cafe’s website. If it meets with your approval, I would suggest a date this Saturday afternoon if you’re available. -Will.

 

He stared at the message for a long moment before hitting the send button. It was oddly formal, a bad habit left over from his days in school, sending notes to teachers, and from filing forms at work. He figured it was better than an overly casual message, he had never quite figured out the proper use of emojis or slang.

 

He sent the message before he could doubt himself and then headed to the kitchen for a pot of coffee. The chances of sleep seemed slim, and it was easier to just push through the fatigue. He practically sleep walked through the familiar routine, coffee, milk, sugar, drink. He wandered back to his desk and settled down in front of a still empty document. It was a field of pure white, like undriven snow. 

 

Will typed out a few words, almost experimentally. The keyboard still worked, no blaming that. He was the problem. His head was full of things. Things he didn’t want to be full of. Darkness and death, rivers of blood ran through his mind, and his dreams were full of bodies. It was drove him from police work. Not being burnt out or disgusted by petty human cruelty, no, what had really done him in was the dreams, the waking ones worst of all. 

 

He had started writing with the idea of exorcising his demons. Getting his thoughts down on paper had seemed like a good idea at the time. Until he started shopping around his first manuscripts. It turned out there was as much of a market for his writings as he had hoped. He had been told to sanitize, to rewrite, to add in in romantic subplots and better endings. His work had become less and less the stuff of his nightmares and more and more the type of easy reading a teacher might take to the beach during breaks. He had been lucky with his success, but his new book was slow coming.     

 

He shook his head and opened a new document and opened the program where kept all his old notes. Dozens upon dozens of files. Murders and assaults and rapes. He clicked on one at random and started skimming through, looking over the grisly details. He could remember each detail clearly as he read, as if he were standing in front of it again. He could see the pale body of the woman on the floor, could smell the congealing blood in the air.  

 

He moved through his dream like he was floating through syrup. He circled the girl, and felt time reverse around him. Her blood returned to her body, the color returned to her cheeks, and the knife returned to her neck, the blade just barely kissing the skin there. He could hear the sounds, muffled, but still clear enough to make out. The beeping of a phone off of a receiver, the sound of the woman crying. The sound of rain coming in through the broken window. 

 

Will had worked the case night and day. Had seen the killer as he was marched into the station, face bruised and his wrists bound in handcuffs. The man had been nothing special a forgettable person in a sea of violent offenders. But he could hold the image in his mind and see the man’s eyes. They were the only special thing about him, if only because they were as cold and dead looking as the woman’s had been.

 

He read through his notes on old case until the small hours of the morning. He went to get another cup of coffee and noticed the sky beginning to grow pale out the window. A signal it was long past time to go to sleep. He put the dogs that needed it in their kennels for the rest of the night and then crawled into his own bed, a few of the pups following him up onto the mattress. He knew he should discourage them from that, that it was a bad habit to indulge, but he found it hard to deny them or himself the comfort of a warm soft comfort in the night time.

 

It took him the better part of an hour to fall asleep, laying there and listening to his dogs snoring. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on them, and put the images of murder out of his mind. When sleep finally came, it was filled with nightmares, oceans of blood and milky eyes staring up at him. He tossed and turned and woke up with the sheets damp with sweat and several furry faces looking at him with the canine version of concern. The sun was up, so he committed to being awake and dragged himself out of bed, intent on more coffee to get through the day.

 

He was on his second cup when he noticed the little alert light on his phone. He sipped his coffee as he swiped his thumb across the screen, pulling up the little letter icon the app had sent him. It was a message, from one Hannibal Lecter, agreeing to meet him for a date on Saturday afternoon.

 

He checked the timestamp on the message and realized it had been sent not long after he had sent his invitation, meaning Dr. Lecter was also a bit of a night owl, and possible a less unsuitable match than he thought. As he was reading he heard one of his smaller dogs, a french bulldog with a bad leg and a chewed up ear he had named Beatrice, whining at his feet. He put his coffee down and scooped her up with one arm, cradling her tiny body to his chest. She licked at his face as he showed her Hannibal’s profile. 

 

“What do you think?” he asked.

 

Beatrice considered the picture for a moment before letting out a loud sneeze, splattering the phone and Will’s hand with thick snot. He grimaced and nodded. 

 

“Yes, well, that seems about right.” He carefully put her down and then cleaned himself and his phone. When he was done with that he took a screencap of the messages and forwarded them along to Alana and Beverly, knowing the women would be eager to see proof of his foray into dating life.

 

He didn’t hear from either until he was done feeding and walking all of the dogs, and making himself a light breakfast of toast and his third cup of coffee. He was in the middle of making a fourth, to wash down the antacids he needed, when his phone started buzzing loudly in his pocket. He fished it out one handed and swiped the screen to life, pushing the icon for the speaker.

 

“You really got a date? A real date with a real man?” Beverly shrieked through the speaker, loud enough to startle the dogs and send them running from the kitchen, nails scrabbling on the tiles. “I can’t believe it!”

 

He held the phone at a distance and clicked the volume down a few ticks. “Yes, well, just a first date, no guarantee of success you know.” He tossed the pills back and chased them down with too hot coffee, breathing through his teeth when it burnt his tongue. I got the date via text, and we all know I’m not better in person.”

 

Beverly let out a very unladylike snort. “Yes, well, maybe I can get you an earpiece and hide at a table nearby, whispering the right thing to say.” She paused to think. “It worked in a movie once.”

 

Will laughed despite himself. “You know, it was a sitcom standby for years, so maybe that would do the trick. We can rustle up a newspaper for you to hide behind, it will all be very subtle.”

 

She hummed into the receiver. “Well at the very least you need to let me and Alana come over and help you get ready. I’ve seen what you go out looking like.” 

 

Will opened his mouth to argue and then looked down at himself. Sweatpants with grass stained knees and bleached spots from cleaning out dog pee. A college sweatshirt several sizes too large. Slippers the dogs had taken to using as chew toys. They weren’t even the sort of clothes he refused to wear out of the house, even if only to get groceries. His nice clothes weren’t much better. “Yeah okay fine, but only if Alana brings that nice smelling hair stuff, I like that.”

 

He could almost hear Beverly rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. “I will be sure to alert Alana of her duty as hair stylist. Lord knows you nice enough when you’re cleaned up Will, I don’t know why you’re so bad at putting in the effort.”

 

Will shrugged before he realized Beverly wouldn’t be able to appreciate the effort and then replied. “Listen, anyone can be attractive, I just happen to value more intellectual pursuits.”

 

“So, you’re a lazy ass?”

 

Will nodded decisively. “Yes.”


End file.
